Our Town
by New Life 080617
Summary: The homework wasn't the problem. The problem was the fact that Tino Vaïnämöinen, AKA the most perfect human being on the planet, lived right next door and sometimes Berwald could see him doing homework from the window in his room. How on earth did anybody expect him to concentrate, knowing that the love of his life was just across the fence? Human AU. SuFin.
1. Act I: Daily Life

_This story is called Our Town, based on the play by the same name. Our Town by Thornton Wilder, is one of the greatest stories ever told, and I simply couldn't resist turning it into a story about Sweden and Finland. I also couldn't resist using Van Gogh's Starry Night as the cover because, in all honesty, nothing fits better._

 _This story will be told in three chapters. The first chapter shows a day in the town. That day is May 7th, 1906. The time is just before dawn. All three chapters have been written and edited, and will be uploaded over the week._

 _DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hetalia, nor do I own Our Town by Thornton Wilder, or Van Gogh's Starry Night._

 _Enjoy~_

* * *

The little town was called Seagull's Bridge, New Hampshire. The date was May 7th, 1906. It was about dawn. The first few streaks of light were just beginning to peak up over the mountains in the east. The only lights on in town were down at the Depot, where the six o'clock train from Massachusetts was just getting in; and in the Jones' house, where Alfred Jones was getting up to deliver the paper. Of course, out in the countryside, the lights had been on for hours, the farmers having gotten up early to milk the cows.

With the exception of the crickets and the black-capped chickadees, the whole town was quiet. It was always quiet this early in the morning; everybody was still in bed, all the horses still asleep in their stables. The first automobiles wouldn't be coming around for about twelve years or so. Back in these days, everybody got where they wanted to go by buggy or by foot.

Main Street, which was usually loud and bustling with all sorts of people, was now completely empty—with the exception of Dr. Oxenstierna, who had been out all night with a first-time mother who'd just given birth to twins.

Dr. Oxentierna died in 1934. A new hospital up north, in Boston, was named after him. His wife, Mrs. Oxenstierna, died first. She went out to visit her sister in New York and died from tuberculosis.

The Oxenstiernas emigrated from Sweden back 1894 with their four-year-old son Berwald. They lived in a little blue house on Pine Creek Road, four blocks down from Main Street. Dr. Oxenstierna did all his business in the office down on the first floor, while Mrs. Oxenstierna tended to her garden out back.

The little blue house sat right next to a yellow house of the same size. It was owned by the Väinämöinens, who had emigrated from Finland in 1896. Mr. Väinämöinen was a proud craftsman with a soft heart and a clever eye for business, who could neither read nor write in English. He specialized in glass blowing and ran his own shop down on Main Street. Mrs. Väinämöinen worked in the home, cleaning and cooking and tending to her garden along side Mrs. Oxenstierna. The Väinämöinens had only one son of their own, a bright-eyed boy named Tino, but had chosen to adopt Lukas Bondevik and his baby brother Emil, after their mother died in childbirth on the voyage over from Norway.

 _Our Town_

"Good morning, Al," Dr. Oxenstierna greeted the boy, who had just turned up Pine Creek Road.

Alfred Jones turned and smiled at the doctor, the cowlick in his hair standing up as perky as ever. "Mornin', Doc," he said, stifling a yawn.

"How's yer arm feeling?" the doctor asked.

Alfred beamed. "Oh, it's doing great, Doc. Doesn't bother me at all," he said.

"Really? Not at all?" he asked. Alfred shrugged.

"Well, it does twinge a little bit when it's about to rain, but I don't mind," he said. "It's more like a superpower than anything else; I can predict the future. I can tell you when it's gonna rain,"

Dr. Oxenstierna chuckled. "Tell me, Al, 's it going t' rain today?" he asked.

Alfred shook his head. "Nah, not today. Probably tomorrow, though,"

" 's that so?"

"Yessir," Alfred said, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Say, doc? What are you doing out so early? Is somebody sick?"

The doctor shook his head. "No, no, nothing like that. A mother gave birth t' twins out on the Nielson Ranch," he said.

Alfred nodded. "Ah," he said.

"How's yer brother, Al? I haven't seen him around lately, 's he doing alright?" Dr. Oxenstierna asked.

"Mattie? Oh, he's doing great. He's got himself a girlfriend,"

"Does he now? What's her name?"

"Avory," Alfred answered, sounding a little bit jealous. "She's in his homeroom,"

The doctor chuckled. "What about you, Al? 's there anybody out there ye're fond of?"

Alfred blushed and ducked his head, unable to stop himself from thinking about a certain British boy in his Literature class. "Well, yeah… but it doesn't matter though…" he trailed off, not wanting to discuss the subject.

Dr. Oxenstierna nodded, and didn't press further. "What about yer Father? How's he?"

"Ah, my old man's doing great," Alfred smiled.

"Does he need any help down at the printing press? My boy, Berwald's looking for a job, and he'd love t' come down and help out with the paper," the doctor said.

"I'm not sure, Doc. Sorry, I'll have to ask him tonight," he said. He reached down into his bag and handed the doctor a copy of the paper. "Here you go, Doc,"

"Thank you, Al. I'll let you get on yer way. You have a great day," he said.

"You too, Doc!" Alfred called and continued along his route.

Dr. Oxenstierna tucked the paper under his arm and unlocked the front door. "Alfie Jones says it's going t' rain tomorrow!" he called to his wife as he took off his boots.

"Does he now?" Mrs. Oxenstierna asked, turning off the stove. She wiped her hands on her apron and crossed over to her husband. "How did it go?" she asked. "You were out nearly all night,"

"Was fine," Dr. Oxenstierna grunted. "Mrs. Nielson is the proud mother of two healthy baby boys," he said.

"Oh that's wonderful!" she exclaimed, glancing up as Berwald came trudging down the stairs.

"Morning, Ber," the doctor greeted his son. Berwald grunted in response and sat down at the table.

"You look beat, why don't you head on upstairs 'n see if you can't catch a few hours of sleep?" Mrs. Oxenstierna asked her husband.

"Sounds like a good idea," the doctor said. As he made his way up the stairs he called out: "Have a good day at school, Ber!"

"Berwald!" Mrs. Oxenstierna snapped. "How many times do I have t' tell you: no books on the table!"

Berwald ducked his head. "Gotta fin'sh this b'fore school,"

"And why didn't you do it last night?"

Berwald shrugged. "Spent 'll night doin' arithm'tic," he said vaguely. He wasn't lying: arithmetic _had_ taken all night. However, he probably could've had it done in less than an hour if he hadn't spent so much time day-dreaming about a certain violet-eyed Finnish boy.

"Is Mr. Beilschmidt giving you children too much homework?" she asked. "I could call him 'f you like and—"

"No," Berwald cut his mother off. " 's fine. The homew'rk's not a probl'm," he said quickly. And that was the truth. The homework wasn't the problem. The problem was the fact that Tino Vaïnämöinen, AKA the most perfect human being on the planet, lived right next door and sometimes Berwald could see him doing homework from the window in his room. How did anybody expect him to concentrate on his work, knowing that the love of his life was right outside the window working on the same arithmetic problems?

"Berwald, are you listening t' me?" his mother asked, breaking the Swede from his thoughts.

Berwald blinked. "Yes," he answered quickly. The school bell rang out and Berwald shot up like a rocket. He was going to be late if he didn't hurry. He quickly gathered all of his schoolbooks and crammed them into his satchel. "Bye, ma. Love ya," he said as he hurried out the door.

"By Ber! Have a great day!" she called out after him. "Say hello t' Mrs. Køhler for me, 'f you see her!"

 _Our Town_

Berwald did _not_ have a good day at school. He _never_ had a good day at school. He hated school, and everybody in school hated him. They didn't bully him. They didn't beat him up and demand he do their homework or give them his lunch money. No, they simply avoided him. They didn't talk to him, they didn't look at him, they scooted away when he sat next to them. They giggled when he spoke up in class, but when he turned to face them, they would flinch and look away.

The giggling, he could understand. Berwald had always had trouble communicating, ever since he was a child. His thick Swedish accent combined with a speech impediment that he could never quite conquer, made him nearly impossible to understand. It wasn't that he didn't know how to speak. In fact, on paper he was incredibly eloquent. He loved words; he loved to read and write in his free time, and he hoped to become a playwrite after graduating from school. Words, however, did not love him. The more he spoke, the more the others laughed at him. He had hoped that someday he would become completely numb to it, and it would stop hurting. However, that day never came. So instead, he simply decided to stop speaking all together. It was easier that way, he had decided. And it hurt far less.

It was the flinching, however, that Berwald never understood. He couldn't think of anything he had ever done anything to make them afraid of him. So, Berwald concluded, there had to be something wrong with his face. It wasn't his glasses; lots of kids wore glasses and they all had friends. So why didn't he? Maybe he was just ugly.

Then one day, while reading a passage from _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ , Berwald found himself identifying with Mr. Hyde (perhaps more than he should've) and reached a conclusion: he was some sort of monster. That's why all the other kids avoided him.

That night, he spent hours studying his face in the mirror, trying to find some sort of deformation or abnormality, but came up with nothing. In his mind, he looked totally normal. But then again, maybe he'd just gotten used to it.

And so, Berwald had started using words like "disfigured", "miscreated", and "deformed" to describe himself. He kept his head low and stared at the ground, trying to avoid attracting attention. Hoping to quell the never-ending loneliness that constantly gnawed at his stomach, he severed any emotional ties he had with his fellow classmates. However, no matter how hard he tried, he found that he couldn't stop himself from falling in love with Tino Väinämöinen.

 _Our Town_

Berwald sat in his usual seat in the back of class and listened to Mr. Beilschmidt drone on and on about Geometry or Cicero's Orations or something else of the sort. He did his best to pay attention, but he just couldn't concentrate on anything the German man was saying. He blamed it partly on sleep-deprivation and partly on the Finnish boy sitting two rows in front of him.

Berwald glanced back at the wooden clock hanging on the wall. School would let out in twenty minutes and frankly, he didn't care at all about whatever Mr. Beilschmidt was talking about. Berwald gave up trying to concentrate and rested his head on hands, staring at the back of Tino's head.

Tino suddenly turned around to look at the clock and caught the Swede's eye. On instinct, Berwald looked away, partly because he didn't want to scare the Finn, partly because he didn't want to see the disgusted look that would no doubt cross Tino's features. But when Berwald looked back again, Tino was still staring at him. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. Tino cringed suddenly, and Berwald's heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. _He's staring, no doubt, out of horrified fascination._ He thought to himself bitterly.

But then, Tino did something that surprised him: he smiled. The way his lips turned up in the perfect curve, the way his big, violet eyes lit up like stars, sent butterflies fluttering through Berwald's chest. He found his lips moving on their own, turning upwards in the tiniest of smiles. It had been a long time since he had smiled so genuinely. Tino's eyes seemed to light up even brighter, and he held the gaze for just a moment more before turning around again and going back to his notes.

Berwald's heart was pounding, his mind racing. He sat in his seat, dumbstruck, for the rest of class.

When school let out, Berwald all but ran out of the schoolhouse. Tino made him feel lighter than air. It made his chest ache. He was so completely head-over heels in love with the small Finn. It hurt him, almost physically, knowing that Tino would never share his feelings. Honestly, he wasn't sure how he was going to survive another year of school knowing Tino was so close, and yet, so far away. He was going to go mad. Maybe he could drop out? No, his father would never let him. Maybe he could run away, catch a train, and ditch town? Yes, that seemed like a reasonable plan. He could start a new life somewhere quaint like Arkansas or New Mexico. He was sure he could have all his things packed by Saturday night. He could catch the eleven o'clock train down at the Depot and—

Someone put a hand on his shoulder.

"There you are!" Tino exclaimed, smiling. "I've been looking for you for everywhere!"

Berwald froze up. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, he could only stare. Tino flinched away from Berwald's gaze. Horrified, the Swede snapped his eyes shut and dropped his head. He wanted to run away, but his legs wouldn't let him.

"I… I, ah, s-sorry. I just wanted to talk to you about something," Tino spoke quickly. "B-but, um, if you're busy I can go away…"

Berwald's head snapped up. "…Ya want t' talk t' me?" he asked, incredulously.

Tino nodded.

"…Why?" he asked.

Tino shifted. "I-I… I, um, I… I wanted t-to know if you wanted to… er… to w-walk home with me?" he asked shuffling his feet nervously.

Berwald's brain had completely stopped functioning. "…Why?"

"W-well… well, because we live right next to each other," Tino said. He smiled, slowly feeling a little more confident. "I, um, I can see you working on homework from my room," he started. "And I know you're really good at arithmetic, and I'm… well, and I'm not. And I was thinking that maybe, sometimes, if I get stuck… you could… you could give me a hint?" Tino asked, hopefully.

Berwald blinked. "A hint?"

"It's not cheating or anything!" Tino said, quickly. "I don't want the whole answer, just maybe, you could sort of push me in the right direction…" Tino said, smiling sheepishly.

Berwald paused, considering this. "Give m' yer books," he said.

Tino jumped. "Wh-wh-what?" he cried.

Berwald cringed inwardly, and rephrased. "Let m' carry 'em fer ya while we walk,"

Tino blushed. "It's alright, you don't have to. I can carry them,"

"But I want t'," Berwald said. " 's th' least I can do,"

Tino smiled and looked away, blushing furiously. "O-oh, alright," he said, passing his books to Berwald. "Then, here. Let me take yours," he suggested, taking Berwald's books with a smile.

 _Our Town_

"What are you so happy about?" Lukas looked up from his books as Tino sat down next to him at the table.

Tino shrugged, still grinning. "Nothing,"

Lukas rolled his eyes. "Stop it. It's unsettling," he said.

"What?" Tino asked. "I'm not allowed to be happy?"

"Not when you smile like that, you're not," Lukas snapped.

"Big brother! Big brother!" Seven-year-old Emil called out as he half waddled, half ran into the kitchen.

Emil was a bright, shy boy with silver hair and violet eyes, and two older brothers who loved him more than anything else in the entire world. He died when he was twelve years old, drowning in the river behind their house after a flashflood.

"Yes, Emil?" Lukas asked, hoisting the boy into his lap.

Emil wrapped his small, slender arms around his older brother's neck and buried his face in the crook of his shoulder.

Lukas smiled gently. "Did you just get home?" he asked. Emil nodded. "Did you have fun at Kaoru's house?"

Again, Emil nodded. He turned to Tino, and asked: "Did you propose to the scary Swedish boy today?"

Tino nearly spat out the milk he had been drinking and rushed to the sink, trying not to choke.

Lukas raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you were so happy about?" he asked.

"No! Nope! I don't know what he's talking about!" Tino said, quickly.

Emil cocked his head. "The scary Swedish boy who lives next door and always smells like meatballs," he clarified.

"Berwald Oxenstierna?" Lukas asked and Emil nodded. "Did he say yes?"

"I didn't propose, Norge!" Tino exclaimed. Lukas rolled his eyes at the use of his silly pet name. "I just asked if he wanted to do homework with me, that's all,"

Lukas' lips quirked upwards in a smile. "What's your dress size, Tino?" he asked. "I think Mr. Bonnefoy's still got some wedding dresses in stock,"

"I'm not getting married!" Tino snapped, blushing furiously. "And even if I was, I wouldn't be the wife!"

Lukas shrugged. "Yeah… whatever you say, Tino,"

There was a knock at the door. "I'll get it!" Tino announced, eager to end the conversation. He rushed to the door and was surprised to find Arthur Kirkland standing at his doorstep, carrying a large Geometry textbook.

"Is Lukas home?" he asked.

Tino nodded. "Norge! It's for you!" he called. The aforementioned Norwegian poked his head around the corner.

"You left your textbook in class," Arthur said simply. Tino fled upstairs, and Lukas stepped forward to take the book.

"Thanks," he said. "I was looking for this,"

Arthur shrugged. "No problem," Instead of leaving, however, he just stood there, staring sheepishly at the ground.

"Is there something else you need?" Lukas asked, frowning.

Arthur shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Yes, actually, there is," he said. He cleared his throat. "You seem to know a lot about love," he started. "What, with you and Mathias…"

Lukas raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Yes?"

"Well… I, um, I was…" Arthur trailed off, unable to find the words he was looking for. He sighed. "How do you tell someone that you love them?" he asked, bluntly.

Lukas smirked. "Is this about that stupid Jones kid?"

"He's got a name, you git!" Arthur snapped.

"I'll take that as a yes,"

Arthur dropped his head. "I apologize. I shouldn't have—"

"No, it's fine," Lukas said with a shrug. "My advice? Just tell him,"

"But how do I—" Arthur started.

Lukas cut him off. "Just say it," he reiterated.

Arthur bit his lip and nodded. "Thank you," he said, sounding a little unsure. Lukas shrugged again and Arthur turned away, heading off down the street.

Arthur Kirkland was a very bright boy. He graduated from high school at the top of his class. He received a full ride scholarship to Massachusetts Institute of Technology and graduated at the top of his class there, too. He was going to become a great engineer, but then war broke out in France and he died out there, all that education for nothing.

 _Our Town_

It was nearly seven o'clock in the afternoon. The sun overhead was just starting to dip behind the horizon, the moon coming out to take its place. Crickets hidden in the foliage started to sing. Down in the congregational church, choir practice had just begun, hymns gently drifting through the air. The children were all at home doing their schoolwork. Time was running down like a tired clock.

Berwald Oxenstierna was hard at work, focusing on his homework. His window was open wide, just in case Tino need help and decided to call out to him.

Suddenly, a voice came hissing through the window. "Psst! Berwald!"

Berwald's head snapped up. There was Tino, leaning half way out of the window. Tino smiled and waved. Berwald waved back.

"Moon's bright t'night," he said awkwardly, pointing outside.

Tino nodded and looked up at the sky. "It's so wonderful tonight," he agreed. "Hmm…" he sighed. "You can smell Mrs. Gibbs' heliotropes from here,"

Berwald inhale and nodded.

"And choir practice… Can you here it? They're singing my favorite hymn," Tino said, smiling.

Berwald closed his eyes and listened as the melody settling in the air. _Blest be the tie that binds…_

"Listen… I hate to bother you, but I'm a little bit stuck on the eighth problem. Can you help me?" Tino asked.

Berwald nodded. " 'f course," he said. He glanced down at the paper. " 's in yards," he said.

Tino screwed up his face in utter confusion. "What? How on earth are you getting _yards_?"

"S'rry. Meant _square_ yards," Berwald clarified.

"… … … Oh," Tino said, still hopelessly lost.

"…square yards 'f wallpap'r," Berwald added, hoping that might help.

" _Wallpaper_?!" Tino cried. He stared at his paper for a long, long time. "…Oh, I see," he lied, not wanting the Swede to think he was dumb.

"Glad I could help," Berwald grunted.

Tino looked out at the sky again and sighed contently. "The moon really is wonderful tonight,"

"Hn," Berwald agreed.

"I guess I'd better get back to work," Tino said. "Thank you, Berwald!"

"G'bye," Berwald waved, his heart fluttering.

 _Our Town_

"Have you been waiting for me long, dear?" Mrs. Oxenstierna asked as she walked up the porch steps.  
"Long enough," Dr. Oxenstierna grunted. "Mr. Edelstein kept you all late tonight,"

" 't isn't any later than usual," Mrs. Oxenstierna scoffed.

Dr. Oxenstierna chuckled and wrapped his arms around his wife. "Wouldn't be nearly s' late if you all didn't stop at the corner t' gossip like a bunch of hens,"

"Oh, Mårten. We were just talking, there's no harm in it," Mrs. Oxenstierna chided.

"So what's the latest gossip for today?" the doctor asked.

Mrs. Oxenstierna smiled. "Ludwig and Feliciano are adopting a baby girl," she said.

"Are they now? That's wonderful!"

"They're going t' call her Cecilia,"

"What a beautiful name. I'm sure they'll make wonderful parents,"

"Hm," Mrs. Oxenstierna hummed. "You know, Mårten, I'm worried about you. The stress of yer job is getting t' you. I can see it in the bags under yer eyes, dear. What you need is a good rest,"

"I've got Saturday off. I can—" the doctor started, but his wife cut him off.

"That's not what I mean. Listen, you know that old table that's been sitting up in our attic gathering dust? Well, Mrs. Soames came over the other day for coffee and according t' her, that old thing 's worth nearly three hundred and fifty dollars!"

"Three hundred and fifty? Are you sure?" Dr. Oxenstierna asked incredulously.

Mrs. Oxenstierna nodded. "I didn't believe her 't first, so I brought in a consultant and he agreed! He said he would buy it off me right then and there. I turned him down, but do you know what I'm going t' do, Mårten? I'm going t' call him back and sell the thing and use th' money on a much need vacation t' Europe. Just the two of us,"

"Europe? What's wrong with here?" Dr. Oxenstierna asked. "Honestly, Ellinor, towns in Europe are no different than towns here,"

"It's been m' life long dream t' see Spain, and you know 't," Mrs. Oxenstierna crossed her arms.

Dr. Oxenstierna shook his head. "I don't see what's s' special about Spain. Life over there isn't any different than our life here," he said. "Every night those people come home fr'm work, and they sit down t' dinner, and th' smoke goes up th' chimney, same as here,"

Mrs. Oxenstierna rolled her eyes. "You're impossible. But we're going on that vacation whether you like 't or not. Just you wait and see, dear,"

Dr. Oxenstierna smiled and kissed his wife. "Come inside, it's getting cold,"

Mrs. Oxenstierna nodded and followed her husband inside. She paused at the door, thinking. "You know, Mårten, Mrs. Webb locks her front door every night. All those people up in that part 'f town do,"

Dr. Oxenstierna sighed. "That's the problem with them. They're all starting t' act like those folks up in the big cities," He shook his head and chuckled. "They don't have anything anybody would want t' steal, 'n everybody knows it,"

 _Our Town_

"Hello, Emil. What are you doing here?" Tino asked.

"I wanna see the moon and I can't see it from my room," Emil said.

"Alright then, c'mere," Tino picked the child up and set him down on the windowsill.

"Tino, why's the moon so bright?" Emil asked.

"To teach the stars how to shine," Tino answered.

Emil nodded. "Tino, why do the stars shine?"

"So that we don't feel alone in the dark, Emil," Tino said with a smile.

"Oh, okay," Emil frowned suddenly. "Tino, what if the moon's getting nearer and nearer and one day it crashes into the earth with a big 'splosion?"

Tino laughed. "The moon's not going to crash into the earth, Emil,"

"Yeah, but what if it does?"

"Then Lukas and I will stop it,"

Emil nodded, accepting the answer. "Did you ever hear about that funny letter Ms. Héderváry got? I hear momma telling papa about it,"

"No, I didn't. What did it say?"

"She got it from her pastor when she got sick a couple of weeks ago. On the envelope it said 'Elizabeta Héderváry, Walnut Acre Street, Seagull's Bridge, Beet County, New Hampshire, the United States of America',"

Tino frowned. "So?" he asked.

"No, but there's more!" Emil said. "'The United States of America, the Continent of North America, the Earth, the Solar System, the Universe, the Mind of God',"

"Wow," Tino breathed. "It said all that?"

"Yup!"

Tino shook his head. "What do you know,"

"And the postman brought it all the same!" Emil exclaimed.

"Well, what do you know,"


	2. Act II: Family, Love, and Marriage

_AUTHOR'S NOTE  
First off, allow me to apologize for the lateness of this chapter. For whatever reason, my laptop decided to blue screen on me while I was editing and it deleted the whole chapter. I apologize, it won't happen again. The third and final chapter is already complete, and I'm planning on uploading it on Tuesday. _

_SPECIAL THANKS:  
Elina Vargas-Thank you so much for your review, it really mean a lot to me!_ _  
Yishayzaccharo-I did include a little UsUk moment just for you. Thanks for your review!  
Also, thanks to FrostyNightSky, MissAudacious13, tami.g, AphIcelandIsBae, Dreams-Wishes-Hopes, IceCreamHeartedAru, LadyKlamydia, Mapple Syrup, Scandinavian Mutt, Sparkle Paws, and harly kush for following and favoriting this story. Your continued support mean so much. Thank you!_

 _AS FOR THE STORY...  
The last chapter was called Daily Life. This chapter is called Family, Love, and Marriage. There's another chapter coming, too. Although, I'm sure you can guess what that's about._

* * *

Nine years had gone by. The sun had come up over three-thousand times. The summers and the winters had cracked down the mountains a bit, and the rains and snow had brought down some of the dirt. Children who weren't even born before had already learned how to read and write and do their times tables. A number of young people had fallen in love and gotten married, and every here and there a new house was set up under a roof.

It was October, 1915. It had been raining for days. Berwald Oxenstierna pulled his coat tighter in an effort to protect himself from the wind as he walked home from work.

" 'm home!" he called out. He shrugged off his coat and hung it up to dry. "Tino, where're ya?"

"In the kitchen!" Tino answered. Berwald made his way into the kitchen and was met by his husband, who greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a mug of hot coco. "I figured you must be freezing after walking home in all this rain,"

"Hn," Berwald grunted, dipping his head in thanks. He took a sip of the coco and gagged, scowling at the offending liquid.

"Careful, it's hot!—Oh, too late. Sorry about that…" Tino winced. "Did you burn yourself?"

"No," the Swede shook his head.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," And just to prove his point, he took another gulp of the scalding liquid.

Tino watched him carefully, his expression halfway between amusement and concern. "Did you just burn yourself, trying to make a point?" Tino asked. Berwald didn't respond, but the look in his eyes gave him away. Chuckling, Tino grabbed an ice cube from the icebox and held it out to his ailing husband. "Suck on this, it'll help,"

Berwald leaned forward and licked the ice cube right out of Tino's hand, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oooeeeeww!" Tino cried, recoiling. "You're worse than Hana!" he exclaimed, wiping his hand on Berwald's shoulder.

"I don't see wh't th' probl'm 's," Berwald started, his speech slurred from the cube in his mouth. "M' tongue's been 'n w'rse places,"

" _Berwald!_ " Tino shriek, his face turning dark red. Berwald only smirked in response. "Bad Berwald! Bad! No more coco for you," Tino chided, taking the mug out of the Swede's hands and setting it on the counter.

"M' tongue still hurts," Berwald complained. "Maybe ya should kiss 't bett'r," he suggested.

"I ought to slap you,"

"But ya won't 'cause ya love me,"

Tino found it increasingly difficult to scowl. Berwald's blue-green eyes always sparkled when he got playful, and it made his heart melt. Sighing, he leaned down and gave Berwald a quick peck on the lips. "Better?" he asked.

"Bett'r,"

"Good,"

There was a batch of cinnamon rolls on the counter that Berwald didn't remember being there when he left for work that morning. He got up to inspect it. "Ya do 'ny baking t'day?" he asked.

Tino shook his head. "Ms. Soames brought them over this morning,"

"Hm," Berwald grunted. "Looks good,"

"You can't have any, not until dinner. Otherwise you'll spoil your appetite,"

Berwald huffed and sat back down at the table. "D'ya need 'ny help?" he asked.

Tino shook his head. "No it's fine. Thank you, though,"

"What're ya makin'?"

"Soup,"

"What kind?"

"Kesäkeitto,"

"Hm," There was a pause.

"Did you hear?" Tino asked. "Alfred Jones finally proposed,"

Berwald looked up. "Did he?"

"He did," Tino nodded.

" 'nd what'd Ivan say?"

Tino grinned. "He said 'yes' of course,"

"When's th' wedding?"

"Sometime in November, I think,"

"That's good," Berwald said with a nod. "Did ya go 'nd visit Ludw'g 'nd F'liciano, t'day?" he asked.

Tino's smile fell. "I did. I brought them that pie we baked last night,"

"How're they doin'?" Berwald asked, slowly.

"They're… coping," he said almost reverently. "I can't imagine what they must be going through. If something ever happened to Peter, I don't know what I would—" He was cut off when Berwald suddenly stood and wrapped his arms around him. "Especially after we lost Emil… It's been nearly four years. Can you believe it? It seems like only yesterday…" he trailed off his a sad chuckle and buried his face in his husband's chest.

The two stayed like for a long time before Tino finally spoke again. "I'm taking Peter to the cemetery tomorrow. Your father said it might be a good idea for him to visit Arthur's grave. It might help him remember a little," Tino said.

" 's a good idea," Berwald said. He paused. "Where 's Pet'r?" he asked.

"He's in his room, taking a na—"

"Papa!" the young boy exclaimed as he bounded down the stairs and wrapped his chubby little arms around Berwald's calf.

Tino shrugged. "I guess he woke up,"

"How're ya doin' Pet'r?" Berwald asked, picking up the child with ease. "Did ya have fun t'day?"

"Yeah! Ms. Soames over to visit. She brought me sweets! And after that I helped mama beat the rug and then we went to the market and I found a whole penny and mama said I could keep it. And then we walked home and I chased a big seagull," Peter explained, his chubby little hands gesturing so wildly that Berwald struggled to keep him securely in his arms. "And then mama made ice cream except we accidentally ate it all so I wasn't supposed to tell you. Oops,"

"Sounds like ya had a busy day," Berwald said, a look of betrayal flashing across his stoic features. Tino ducked his head in shame.

"How was your day, papa?" Peter asked.

"M' day was good," Berwald grunted.

"When is dinner, mama?"

"Ten minutes. I'm almost done, I just have to let it simmer—Berwald, put that down!" Tino snapped as the Swede took a big bite out of one of the cinnamon rolls. "I told you not to eat those until after dinner," he pouted.

Berwald shrugged. "Ya b'tray m' trust, I b'tray yers," he said vaguely, and took another big bite of the pastry.

"I'll make you more ice cream tomorrow, Ber," Tino rolled his eyes.

"Mama, can I have a cinnamon roll too?" Peter asked.

"No, not until after dinner,"

"But papa's eating one!" Peter complained.

"That's because papa is being a child," Tino said, narrowing his eyes.

"But I'm a child too!"

"Here ya go, Pet'r," Berwald said, passing the child a cinnamon roll.

"Yay!" Peter threw his arms up in the air happily and took a big bite. "Hmm mmm!"

"But dinner…" Tino whined.

" 's fer dess'rt t'night," Berwald said. Tino gave him a funny look, so he explained further: "Dess'rt fer dinn'r 'nd dinn'r fer dess'rt. 's Opposite Day,"

"Oh, it's Opposite Day, is it?" Tino smiled. "Well I guess that means that I get to be Peter tonight," he said mischievously.

"Huh?" Peter's head shot up. "Wha…? Fine, then I get to be papa!" he giggled and pointed at Berwald. "Which makes you mama!"

Berwald nodded and cleared his throat. " 'lright, ev'rybody sit down. No more fun t'night," he said, making his voice sound squeaky and high-pitched. Peter laughed hysterically.

"Hey! I don't sound like that!" Tino huffed crossing his arms.

"Ya do t'night," Berwald said simply.

"I wanna try! I wanna try!" Peter exclaimed standing up on the chair. He then proceeded to yell every Finnish profanity he knew at the top of his lungs, and attempted to rip off his shirt (although he only succeeded in getting himself stuck.)

"Look, he's bein' ya when yer drunk," Berwald said, chuckling.

Tino sunk down in his seat. "It was one time,"

"They had t' put ya 'n th' holdin' cell fer th' night. Norge 'nd I had t' bail ya out,"

"I was celebrating!" Tino exclaimed. "Mathias was there, too. It wasn't just me,"

"But people expect Mathias t' do stuff like that," Berwald explained.

Tino buried his face in his hands. "Go away. Leave me here to die in my shame,"

Berwald wrapped and arm around Tino's shoulders. "Don't w'rry. Wasn't that bad," he said. Tino responded by elbowing his husband in the side, leaving the Swede in a fit of giggles on the floor.

"Oh, you're going to get it tonight," Tino said, looming over Berwald's prone form.

"Tickle fight!" Peter exclaimed and leapt on top of his father.

 _Our Town_

Berwald and Tino weren't always so happy. There was a time, long ago, when neither of them thought that there was any hope left for them. They were in love for the first time; it was as though they were sleep walking. They didn't know where they were: they couldn't see the road ahead of them, and they didn't hear everything that was being said. They were just a little bit crazy.

That's just how it goes: you're twenty-one, or twenty-two, and you make some decisions and suddenly you're seventy. You've been a lawyer for fifty years and that white haired old man by your side has eaten over fifty thousand meals with you. How do such things begin?

The date was November 29th, 1906. The leaves had finished their show of colors and were piled on the ground, leaving their resident branches bare for the winter. The air was getting cooler, the wind had a familiar bite to it. It was nearly four thirty in the afternoon. School had long since ended, but Berwald was still sitting on one of the wooden benches outside of the school house, his knees pulled up to his chest. Snow collected on the top of his head, clinging to the frozen strands of his golden hair.

"Berwald?" Tino asked, squinting as he neared the frozen figure.

"What 're ya doin' here?" Berwald asked, lifting his head.

"Looking for you," Tino said simply. Berwald didn't press any further, but the little Finn continued anyway. "I waited outside for ages so we could walk home together, but when you never showed, I assumed you went home…" he said, rocking nervously on the balls of his feet. "I went to your house to see if you wanted to do homework together, but you weren't there. So, I came back here to look for you. What are you still doing out here? Aren't you freezing?"

Berwald narrowed his eyes. "No," he said simply, the words coming out harsher than he meant. Tino cringed and Berwald looked away, guilt settling into the pit of his stomach. He expected Tino to turn and run away, to leave him all alone in the cold and the snow, but Tino did just the opposite: he sat down next to the Swede and offered him his coat.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Berwald straightened up a bit and blinked in confusion. "Hn?"

Tino looked away quickly, mistaking the Swede's confusion for anger, but he held his ground. "You-you just seem really upset is all," he said quickly. Berwald didn't answer, but his whole body sagged, almost like he was wilting. Tino took a deep breath. "Do you hate me?" he asked.

Berwald's head snapped up. Is this really what Tino thought? Tears gathered in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. "Don't hate ya," he said earnestly, shaking his head.

"It's just… you've been so distant lately. Over the summer, you were so friendly, but now… now you don't talk, you don't make eye contact, you just sit there, staring at the floor. I just want to know what I did wrong, okay? Because I really like you and I want us to be friends,"

Berwald swallowed thickly. There was so much he wanted to tell Tino, but he didn't know how to say it. He knew his accent and his speech impediment would get in the way. He was panicking. He had no idea how to make things right with Tino and he didn't want to loose the only friend he ever had. He stared at the Finnish boy, trying to work up the courage to say something, anything, but no words came out. He could only look at Tino, his eyes filled with love and sorrow, more than all the words he could ever say.

Tino reached up and cupped Berwald's cheek. "I'm worried about you, Ber. Please, I know words are hard for you, but as much as I want to, I can't read your mind," he said, trying to coax Berwald to talk. But still the Swede said nothing. "I just want to help you, Ber. You seem so sad, lately. Actually, I think you're always a little bit sad…"

"… … … … … … 'm I a monst'r, Finn?" he asked.

Tino's heart broke at earnest pain in Berwald's voice. "No, of course you're not a monster. Why on earth would you think that?"

" 'cause nobody likes me," Berwald hung his head.

"I like you," Tino said shyly, blushing all the way down to his toes.

Berwald shook his head. "But they 'll flinch when I look 't 'em," he said. "…Ev'n you,"

Tino's heart sunk. "Oh, Berwald…" He reached out to hug the Swede, but Berwald pulled away, shaking his head.

"Can't, Finn. 'm sorry, hurt too much,"

"Berwald Oxenstierna, you are not a monster," Tino said, sounding stern. "You're the sweetest, kindest boy I've ever met, and anybody who disagrees with me is gonna get punched in the face,"

Berwald blinked. For the first time, Tino recognized all of the emotions swimming around in Berwald's eyes that he was certain the Swede was incapable of feeling. His stomach plummeted when he saw the insecurity in Berwald's eyes. He had never noticed it before, because it was always there. Berwald was always insecure about something. "Ya really mean that?" he asked.

Tino nodded fiercely. He smiled at the taller boy and reached out for another hug, but once again, Berwald pulled away.

"Please Finn… I can't," he pleaded.

Tino frowned. "Why not?"

Berwald shook his head. "Hurts,"

Tino felt tears welling up his own bright purple eyes. Maybe… maybe Berwald really did hate him? Maybe he didn't want to be friends anymore? "I-I-I don't understand..."

Berwald squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. Every fiber in his being was practically screaming at him to _tell Tino how you feel!_ But he couldn't. He just _couldn't._ He was too afraid that he'd ruin the only friendship he ever had.

Tino closed his eyes, a single tear snaking down his cheek. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to— I should go," he stood up and Berwald panicked.

"I love ya," he blurted out.

Tino froze. "… … … What?" he asked. Berwald flinched.

"Please don't make m' say 't again," he begged.

"You love me?" Tino asked, eyes wide in disbelief. Berwald looked away, his chest tight. The silence was deafening. It felt as though the entire world was holding its breath in anticipation for the inevitable rejection. But it never came.

"Is this a joke?" Tino asked. Berwald couldn't bring himself to answer. "You really…?" Tino asked. Again, the Swede didn't answer.

After what felt like a small eternity, Berwald finally said something. His eyes were red-rimmed and he was shaking from the cold. " 'm sorry, Finn," he said quietly. "Shouldn't have—it's okay 'f ya don't want t' be friends anymore… I just—'m sorry. Should've known bett'r," he turned away, his voice barely above a whisper. "Aft'r all, who could ev'r love me?"

"I could," Tino said, simply. Berwald turned around and squinted at the violet eyed boy. Tino laughed. "Give yourself more credit, Ber," he said.

"I don't und'rstand,"

"I love you Berwald," Tino reiterated, timidly taking Berwald's hand. The Swede jumped and Tino giggled. "C'mon, it's freezing and you're starting to shake. Let's head down to the Drug Store and I'll buy you some peppermint coco,"

The Drug Store was owned by Antonio Fernández Carriedo and his husband Lovino. They had met, working at a cattle ranch when Lovino was assigned to work for the Spaniard as his apprentice. Lovino had purchased the Drug Store with his life savings to give Antonio a second chance at life after his leg was crushed by a bull during a stampede.

Antonio died in 1917. He was shot in the heart by a burglar who had broken into the store. He lived just long enough to know that Lovino had caught him in his arms. Lovino hung himself in the parlor two years later.

" _Hola_ , _amigos_!" Antonio greeted Tino and Berwald as they walked into the store.

" _Hola_ , _señor_ Carriedo," Tino chirped happily.

Antonio grinned. "It's cold outside, _amigos_. Have you seen all the snow?"

"Of course they've seen the snow you dumb bastard," Lovino snapped as he came out from the back room. "They have eyes, _idiota_ ,"

"Aw, Lovi~!" Antonio pouted. "No need to be so grumpy, I was just making friendly conversation," He turned his attention back to his customers. "You two sure look happy, eh? You two on a date?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Berwald looked away and Tino blushed, but never once did they let go of each other's hands.

"Leave them alone you bastard," Lovino snapped.

"But Lovi~"

"No! Stop making small talk and go ask the bastards what they want!" Lovino ordered and Antonio grinned.

"Alright, boys, what can I get for you today?" he asked.

"Two hot chocolates, please," Tino said, holding up two fingers. "With peppermint,"

"Two peppermint hot chocolates, _¡ya viene!_ " he exclaimed. He put two mugs under the faucet and filled them to the brim, adding whipped cream and a cherry. "Here you go, _amigos_ ," he said, sliding the mugs down the counter.

"You forgot the damn peppermint, lazy tomato bastard," Lovino growled, snatching the mugs back and dropping two peppermint sticks into each mug.

" _Oy vey_! _Gracias_ , Lovino. What would I do without you?" he asked. He gave Lovino a quick kiss on the lips and Lovino responded by slapping him in the face.

"Go and help your other damn customers you idiot," Lovino chided, turned away and sulking off into the back room.

"Aye, what am I going to do with you, Lovi?" Antonio chuckled. " _Hola_ , Mrs. Forester. How can I help you?"

"Tino?" Berwald asked, sipping his hot chocolate fondly.

"Hm?" Tino hummed.

"What 're ya plannin' t' do aft'r high school's ov'r?" Berwald asked.

"Me? Oh… I haven't really thought about it. I don't think I'm smart enough to go off to college, so I'll probably just stay here and help my papa with the glass shop," he said. "Are you still planning on going off to that college in New York?"

Berwald shrugged. "Been thinkin'. Want t' become a writ'r. Talked t' Mr. Jones about 't th' oth'r day. He says college 's j'st a waste 'f time,"

"But isn't it important to go and learn more about writing so you can get better?" Tino asked.

Berwald shook his head. "Mr. Jones says th' best way t' get bett'r 's by jumping 'nto 't headfirst, not by some teach'r telling ya what t' do,"

"So… does that mean you're planning on staying here in Seagull's Bridge?" Tino asked hesitantly. Berwald nodded. "You know," Tino started. "That's a whole year away. You don't have to decide right now,"

"I know. Figured some things 're more 'mportant than college," Berwald said.

"Like what?"

"…Like people,"

"People?"

"Hm," Berwald hummed in affirmation and Tino blushed.

 _Our Town_

Almost everybody in the world gets married at some point in their lives. Seagull's Bridge was no different. People were made to live two by two.

Berwald and Tino's marriage was a good wedding, but even at a good wedding there was still a lot of confusion way down deep in people's minds. There was once an America playwrite who described it perfectly: "Every human being born into the world, is Nature's attempt at creating a perfect Human Being. Well, we've seen nature pushing and contriving for some time now. We know she's interested in quantity, but I think she's interested in quality also,"

Friends and family weren't the only ones at the wedding. There were others, too: the ancestors. Millions of them. Most of them had lived their lives two-by-two, also. Millions of them.

Almost everybody in the world climbs into their graves, married.

It was July, 1909. The Congregational church was buzzing with activity. Friends and family filled the pews. Mrs. Oxenstierna was crying, Lukas was fixing Emil's bow tie, and Mr. Edelstein was up at the organ playing Handel's " _Largo_ ".

Mrs. Väinämöinen walked down the aisle holding onto her husbands arm tightly. "I don't know why on earth I'm crying," she said, sniffling. "You know, there's really nothing to cry about,"

"Sure there it," Mr. Väinämöinen said. "It's a big change. One of our little birds is flying away,"

Mrs. Väinämöinen nodded. "It came over me at breakfast. There was Tino, sitting at the table eating and talking with Lukas and Emil like he's done for _years_ and now… now he's going to be eating breakfast in somebody else's house," Her breathing hitched and she dabbed at her eyes.

"There, there, it's going to be alright," Mr. Väinämöinen patted his wife's back.

Mrs. Väinämöinen laughed suddenly, catching her husband off guard. "And Tino!" she exclaimed. "He suddenly said: 'I can't eat another mouthful!' and he put his head down on the table and _he_ cried," She took her seat in the front of the chapel.

Berwald walked into the chapel slowly. He felt sick to his stomach. He wanted to run away and hide. Mrs. Oxenstierna turned around. "Berwald!" she gasped. She hurried up the aisle towards her son. "Berwald, what's th' matter?" she asked.

Berwald shook his head. "Don't want t' grow up," he said quietly. "Ev'rybody's pushin' me…"

"But, Berwald, you wanted this, didn't you?" Mrs. Oxenstierna asked.

Berwald shook his head. "No, no, ma, list'n—"

"No, Berwald. You're a man now. You have t' be brave, do ya hear me?"

"Don't want t' be brave. J'st want t' go home—"

"Berwald, stop it. That's enough. If anybody should hear you!" Mrs. Oxenstierna exclaimed. She sighed and pulled her son into a hug. "It's going to be alright, Ber. You love him, don't you?" she asked. Berwald nodded. "Then that settles it,"

Berwald paused and thought this over. He looked over the congregation and pulled away. "Where's Tino?" he asked.

"He'll be here. Don't worry," she said, tears welling in her eyes. "Oh… my little boy…"

Berwald smiled. "Cheer up, ma. 'm gettin' married," he said and lead his mother down the aisle. "Now, ma, ya save Thursday nights fer me 'nd Tino. We'll come ov'r fer dinn'r every Thursday night. Ya'll see. Why're ya cryin'?"

Mrs. Oxenstierna waved him away. "Go on, I'll be fine," she said and Berwald took his place at the head of the altar.

The congregation started to sing. _Blessed be the tie that binds…_

"Iggy!" Alfred exclaimed as he weaved through the pews. "I haven't seen you since graduation!" He said, sitting down next to the Brit.

Arthur's face turned bright red. "What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed.

"Sitting next to you," Alfred said with a shrug.

"Why don't you go and sit with your family?"

"Because they're all already cry, Iggy. It's super lame,"

"Don't call me Iggy, you twat," Arthur snapped and Alfred grinned.

"Besides!" the American started. "I wanted to sit next to you, _Iggy_ ,"

Arthur blushed and he ducked his head. "And why on earth would you want to sit next to me?"

Alfred blushed suddenly. "Wha…? I uh… Oh, just to say hi," he said, quickly. "S-so how's college going?"

"College is alright, I suppose. It's awfully quiet without you there," he said.

"Aw, Iggy, do you miss me?" Alfred asked.

Arthur's eyes widened. "What? Miss you? O-of course not, don't be absurd. I-I was just saying how different it is without all of your bloody obnoxious laughter filling the hallways,"

"You totally missed me! I miss you too, you know," Alfred grinned and Arthur glared.

"Shut up, you git! I think it's starting!"

Tino sucked in a breath as he walked into the chapel. "I've never felt more alone in my life!" he whimpered and glared at Berwald, who still hadn't noticed him. "It's all his fault, I hate him!"

Berwald turned to face the door and gasped. "Tino…" he breathed. He'd never seen a more beautiful man in all his life. Tino smiled shyly and waved. All of his anxiety seemed to melt away.

Mr. Väinämöinen turned and got up from his seat. He took his son's arm just as Mr. Edelstein starting to play the Wedding March. Slowly, Mr. Väinämöinen and Tino made their way down the aisle. Tino took Berwald's hands and Mr. Väinämöinen returned to his head.

The Clergyman got up on his box and smiled down at the pair. "Do you, Berwald, take this man, Tino, to be your wedded husband, to have…"

In the back of the chapel, Feliciano smiled and leaned on Lugwig's arm. "Ve~! It's such a lovely wedding, isn't it?" he asked. "Loveliest wedding I've ever seen! Ve~ I love a good wedding… And just look at them, they're so happy~!"

"Papà, look at how pretty he is!" Cecilia marveled tugging on her father's sleeve.

"Ve~ he is, isn't he?"

Ludwig smiled.

"I do," Berwald said.

"And do you, Tino, take this man, Berwald, to be your wedded husband…" The Clergyman continued.

Feliciano sniffled. "Has Ludwig ever seen such a lovely wedding?" he asked.

Ludwig smiled. "Only ours, Feli,"

"Ve~ I always cry. I don't know why but I always cry. I just love seeing young people so happy. Don't you, Ludwig?"

"Sh, Feli,"

Berwald and Tino exchanged rings. The Swede wrapped his arms around Tino's waist and kissed him.

Far above the rest of the congregation, the ancestors watched on in silence. "You know," one of them said. "I've seen over two hundred weddings in my day. Do I believe it? I don't know. _M_ marries _N_ … Millions of them. The cottage, the carriage, the Sunday afternoon walks through the town, the first rheumatism, the grandchildren, the second rheumatism, the deathbed, the reading of the will… you know, once in a thousand times it's interesting,"

The Wedding March rang out. Rice was thrown everywhere.

"Aren't they the loveliest couple, Ludwig?" Feliciano asked. "I'm sure they'll be very happy. Ve~ I always say: _happiness_ , that's the great thing! The important thing is to be happy!"


	3. Act III: Eternity

_AUTHOR'S NOTE  
I know I told you I'd post this chapter on Tuesday, but I honestly couldn't wait. I was so excited about this. _

_SPECIAL THANKS  
_ _Yishayzaccharo and_ _Elina Vargas, I honestly can't even begin to thank you for your support. Your comments made my day. Thank you guys so, so much!_ _  
_

* * *

Five years had gone by. It was summer, 1920. There were gradual changes in Seagull's Bridge. Horses were getting rarer and rarer, farmers coming into town driving Fords. Everybody had started locking their doors at night, especially after Antonio Carriedo was gunned down in the front of his own shop. On the whole, though not a lot had changed.

The mountains on the east side of Seagull's Bridge were in full bloom. The very tops of the hills were covered in laurels and mountain lilacs. It was a beautiful place to be. The skies were clear and open, the stars at night vast and innumerable. That's where the cemetery was located.

The oldest stones in the cemetery—1670-1680—sat on the north side. They belonged to strong-minded people who had come a long way to be independent. Most of the names and dates on the stones had long since disappeared, wiped away after centuries of wind, and rain, and sunshine.

Next to them were some civil war veterans who had iron flags on their graves. They were New Hampshire boys who had a notion that the Union ought to be kept together, even though they had never seen more then fifty miles of it. All they knew was the name: The United States of America. And they went and they died for it.

Down in the west was the new part of the cemetery. Mrs. Oxenstierna was one of the first to be buried there. Arthur Kirkland, who had died in war, was buried there also. As was Feliciano Vargas and his daughter, both of whom had enjoyed the wedding so. And of course, Emil Steilsson, who drowned in the creek after a flash flood. There was an awful lot of sorrow that had quieted down up there.

There are some things that everybody knows, but nobody ever seems to realize it. Everybody knows that _something_ is eternal. And it isn't houses, and it isn't names, and it isn't the earth, and it isn't even the stars. And yet, everybody knows in their bones that something is eternal, because there's something way down deep that's eternal about every human being.

Everybody knows that everybody dies, and everybody knows that the dead don't stay interested in the living for very long. They get weaned away from the earth and gradually they lose hold of it. They slowly start to forget the ambitions they had, and the pleasures they had, and the things they suffered, and the people they loved. They stay out there, by their graves, while the earth part of them burns away until it's gone. And after a while, they become indifferent to the things that happen down on earth.

They're waiting for something that they feel is coming. Something great, something important. They're waiting for the eternal part of them to come out clear.

 _Our Town_

A parade of umbrellas and black suits made its way up the dusty trail. In the front of the procession, four people carried a coffin and set it down over a newly made grave.

"Who is it?" Arthur Kirkland asked, his eyes fixed on the stars.

"My son in law, Tino Väinämöinen," Mrs. Oxenstierna answered.

"Ve~ he was in Ludwig's old high school classes," Feliciano chimed in, smiling faintly at the memory.

"Hm," Mrs. Oxenstierna hummed, nodding in agreement.

"How'd he die?" Antonio asked.

"Pneumonia,"

"Pneumonia?" Arthur asked. "I'd forgotten all about that. My, wasn't life _awful_?" he asked with a chuckle. "…And _wonderful_ ,"

"Oh, wonderful was it?" Lovino asked bitterly, giving the Brit a sideways glance.

Antonio smiled. "Sure it was. Don't you remember, Lovi?"

"Ve~ I remember Tino's wedding," Feliciano said warmly, taking hold of his daughter's hand. "It was a beautiful ceremony. I don't think there was a happier couple in the whole world," he smiled. "I went out to visit them on their new farm just before I died. I made them pasta,"

A melody drifted through the air as the congregation started to sing. _Blest be the tie that binds..._

"I always liked that hymn," Arthur said. "I was hoping they'd sing a hymn,"

Suddenly, Tino stepped out of the congregation, dressed in clean white suit. He looked around carefully, feeling lost and a bit confused. His eyes fell on Mrs. Oxenstierna and he smiled. "Hello," he said quietly.

"Hello, dear," she said, taking her eyes off of the stars.

"How do you do, Tino?" Arthur asked.

The little Finn gave a curt nod. "How do you do, Arthur?"

"Hello, Tino," Emil glanced up at his older brother and smiled.

Tino turned around. "Oh, Emil! It's been so long. I—Norge and I missed you so much, Emil," he said. "The house… it felt so empty without you,"

"I know," Emil said simply.

Tino frowned and glanced up at the sky. "It's raining," he said, surprised.

"Yes…" Mrs. Oxenstierna nodded. She paused, looking out at the mourners. "They'll be gone soon, Tino. Just rest yourself,"

Tino shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. "It seems like thousands and thousands of years since…" he trailed off and turned towards the congregation. "Oh, Berwald remembered that was my favorite hymn," he smiled, closing his eyes and listening to the melody. There was a pause. "Mother Oxenstierna, Berwald and I turned that old farm into the most wonderful place. We keep chickens and sheep, and Berwald bought himself a typewriter with the money you left us,"

"I did?"

"Yes. Don't you remember? It was nearly three hundred and fifty dollars,"

Mrs. Oxenstierna nodded slowly. "Yes… Yes, I remember,"

Tino paused. "It really is a lovely farm. Although, I suppose it won't be the same to Berwald and Peter without me…"

Arthur perked up at the mention of his brother. "Tino, how is my brother?" he asked.

Tino grinned. "Oh, he's wonderful! He's very creative. He likes to sit on the floor of the parlor and draw while Ber and I talk. He'll be eight in the fall,"

Arthur nodded. "Does he remember me?" he asked.

Tino faltered. "We've told him of you but… no, I'm sorry. He doesn't know you,"

Arthur almost seemed to wilt. "Ah," he said.

"He's spending the day at Alfred's house," Tino said. He looked up, suddenly. "Oh, Mrs. Jones, my little boy's spending the day at your son's house,"

Mrs. Jones blinked. "Is he?

"Yes," Tino nodded. "He loves it there,"

"Alfred," Arthur breathed, his voice low and sad. "Is he… is he well?"

Tino nodded, smiling sadly. "Yes. He and Ivan are very happy,"

"Oh…" Arthur whispered.

"You never told him, did you?" Tino asked.

Arthur closed his eyes. "No,"

Tino looked out at the congregation and shifted restlessly. "Mother Oxenstierna, when does it go away?" he asked urgently, clutching at his heart. "This feeling— of being… of being one of _them_?"

"Sh, dear. Just rest yourself. Be patient," Mrs. Oxenstierna said.

"I know, I know. Look! They're finished. They're leaving," Tino said.

"Sh, dear. Just rest,"

One by one, the members of the congregation stepped forward and laid flowers at Tino's feet. Lukas was among the first. He put a hand on Tino's headstone and dipped his head. He muttered apologies and promised to take care of their parents. There was a pause. He opened his mouth to say something else, but nothing came out except for a strangled sob. With nothing left to say, he turned away, looking behind him only once to glance at his brothers' graves.

"Bye-bye, big brother," Emil breathed.

Others came to pay their respects. Tino recognized friends, family, and old classmates. "Oh! Feliciano, it's your husband," Tino said.

"Ve~! Cecilia look," Feliciano said, carefully nudging his daughter. "It's vati,"

Ludwig solemnly trudged up the path and paid his final respects to his former student before turning and kneeling at the feet of his husband and his daughter. The little girl reached out to comfort her father, but Feli stopped her. Soon, Gilbert appeared beside his brother and ushered him away.

"They're awfully troubled," Tino said, quietly.

One by one, the people disappeared until only Dr. Oxenstierna remained.

"Look," Tino said. "Father Oxenstierna is bringing you some of my flowers,"

Mrs. Oxenstierna didn't look up. Her husband laid half the bouquet of roses down at her feet and disappeared back down the path.

Tino swallowed, distraught. "Living people don't understand, do they?"

Mrs. Oxenstierna shook her head. "No, dear. Not very much,"

They're all sort of shut up in little boxes. I feel as though I knew them last a thousand years ago. I never realized how troubled they are,"

There was a pause, peace settling over the air. "It's a little cooler than it was," Antonio said.

Arthur nodded. "Yes… the rain certainly cooled it off a bit,"

Tino frowned, and turned towards Mrs. Oxenstierna. "But Mother Oxenstierna, one _can_ go back, can't they? Back into living… I can feel it. For one moment I was thinking about the farm and suddenly there I was! Berwald was reading the paper and Peter was on the floor drawing,"

Mrs. Oxenstierna paused. "… Yes, of course you can,"

Tino smiled hopefully. "I can go back there and live all those days over again…" he breathed.

"Don't, Tino. Don't. 's not worth 't. We've all tried, but we all soon came back here," Mrs. Oxenstierna said sharply.

"All of you?" Tino frowned. "Even you?"

"Yes, Tino. I did. Please, dear, don't do 't,"

Tino shook his head and stood up. "I'm not going to live over a sad day," he scoffed. "I'll choose a happy one! I'll pick the day I first knew I was in love with Berwald. Why should that be painful?"

"Tino, you not only live it, but you watch yourself living it. And as you watch yourself, you see the things they, the living, never know. You know what's going to happen next,"

Arthur shook his head. "Please, Tino, don't. It's not worth it. You ought to just forget that life,"

"How can I ever forget that life?" Tino asked. "It's all I know! It's all I had…"

"Ve~ It will hurt you more than you know," Feliciano said.

"No, no!" Tino said, urgently. "I'll choose a happy day!"

"Tino…" Emil looked at his brother sadly.

"No, it'll be fine," Tino insisted.

"At least choose an unimportant day," Antonio said. "Choose the least important day of your life. It will be important enough,"

Tino nodded. "How do I get there?" he asked.

Mrs. Oxenstierna sighed and stood up. "I'll take you," she said. She took the Finn's hand and led him down the pathway into town.

 _Our Town_

Tino gasped. "Look!" he cried. "It's Main Street! Everything's just as I remember it! There's the old schoolhouse before they tore it down!"

"Yes, of course it is," Mrs. Oxenstierna chided. "These are _your_ memories, after all,"

"This is my old street! Look, there's my house! And yours it right next to it!" Tino exclaimed. He stopped abruptly. "There's Mr. Lawrence, our old post-man. But he _died_. He's _dead_ ,"

"Come on, dear. Let's head inside," Mrs. Oxenstierna said, opening up the front door.

Mrs. Väinämöinen was standing at the stove, frying some eggs for breakfast. "Tino! Lukas! Emil!" she yelled up the stairs. "Breakfast!"

"Mama!" Tino exclaimed. "Look how young she is! I had forgotten she was ever that young,"

"Coming!" Lukas called. A moment later, he appeared at the foot of the stairs, Emil clinging to the leg of his pants.

"Look at them!" Tino gasped. He burst into a fit of giggles at the sight of Lukas' bedhead. "Look at his hair!" he laughed. "And Emil! I forgot how clingy he used to be," he chuckled.

"Tino!" Mrs. Väinämöinen called. "Go and fetch your brother, Emil," she said. The young boy released his hold on his brother's pants and bounded up the stairs.

Tino shook his head. "I can't bear it. They're all so… young. Why did they ever have to get old? Mama, Lukas, look at me! I'm all grown up now. I love you all so much…" He turned back towards Mrs. Oxenstierna. "Can I…?"

Mrs. Oxenstierna nodded.

Tino grinned walked into the kitchen. "Here I am, mama!" he said just as Emil came back down the stairs.

"Hurry and get your bacon before it gets cold," Mrs. Väinämöinen said without turning around.

Tino nodded and grabbed a plate. He sat down at the table and just stared as his brothers, trying to memorize their faces.

"How did you sleep?" Mrs. Väinämöinen asked.

Lukas shrugged. "Alright I guess,"

"I got scared of the dark, so Wuka let me sleep with him," Emil admitted.

Tino smiled sadly. "I forgot he used to call him that…"

"What about you, Tino? Did you sleep alright?" Mrs Väinämöinen asked.

Tino nodded. "I had this crazy dream about one of Mr. Beilschmit's classes," he said. He paused. "Mama, have you seen my Algebra book?" he asked.

"It's over by the table," Lukas said, answer for his mother.

Tino's smile fell and he forced himself to turn away from his family to fetch his book. Tears welled in his eyes when he turned back around. It was getting harder and harder to look at them.

"I'm going over to Mathias' house after school to study for history," Lukas informed his mother, without looking up from his food.

Mrs. Väinämöinen glanced over her shoulder. "Alright, dear. Just be home before supper,"

Tino suddenly felt tears slipping down his cheeks. "This was all so perfect," he whispered to himself. "Why did it have to change?"

"Can I have more milk?" Emil asked.

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Väinämöinen took the cup from her youngest son and refilled it.

"You're dead, Emil…" Tino whispered.

"Thank you!" Emil exclaimed and sipped it eagerly.

"Careful there," Lukas warned. "You're going to give yourself the hiccups if you drink it too fast,"

Tino shook his head. "I can't," he whispered.

"Daan!" Mrs. Väinämöinen called. "Come and get your breakfast before it gets cold!"

"Coming, dear!" Mr. Väinämöinen called from somewhere upstairs.

Tino turned away, a cry rising in his throat. "I can't!"

"Honestly Tino!" Mrs. Väinämöinen scolded. "Chew your food slowly! You're going to choke, one of these days,"

"Mama, please just _look at me!_ " Tino shouted. "Eighteen years have passed! You're a grandmother. I married Berwald Oxenstierna. I'm dead, mama! I'm dead! Emil's dead too! Don't you remember? He drowned in the creek, mama! We were heartbroken. Lukas didn't come out of his room for a week. But right here, right now, we're all together again. We're a family, again. We can be happy for just this one moment, _so let's look at one another!_ "

"And Tino, don't forget to pack up all of your books. I don't want to have to run up to the schoolhouse in the middle of the day because you left something behind," Mrs. Väinämöinen said from the stove.

Mr. Väinämöinen walked into the kitchen, adjusting his jacket. "Mmm," he hummed. "Smells good,"

Tino shook his head and screamed. "I can't! I can't do this! I can't go on! It's too fast! We don't look at each other! Why? Why don't we look at each other?" Tino set his head down on the table and began to sob. Mrs. Oxenstierna stepped forward. "I didn't know! I didn't know!" Tino cried. "All that… All that was going on and we didn't even notice," he shook his head miserably and wiped his eyes. "Take me back up the hill, to my grave,"

Mrs. Oxenstierna nodded and helped him stand. She took his hand to lead him away, but he stopped. "Wait," he said. "I just… one more look. Please," Tino turned back towards his old family and dipped his head. "Good-bye…" he whispered. "Good-bye earth. Good-bye Seagull's Bridge… Mama and papa and Lukas a-and… and Berwald and Peter. Good-bye to Mrs. Gibbs' heliotropes and Berwald's meatballs… and coffee and sweets and Peter's silly drawings. Good-bye to dancing, and laughing, and hugs, and hot baths… and sleeping and waking up…" Tears dribbled down his chin. "Oh earth… you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you,"

"Come on, dear," Mrs. Oxenstierna said, holding out her hand.

Tino stared at her for a moment. "Do human beings ever realize life while they live it? Every, every minute?" he asked.  
Mrs. Oxenstierna stared at him for a long time without speaking. "…No," she said at last.

Tino hung his head, choking on a sob, and Mrs. Oxenstierna took his hand and lead him away.

 _Our Town_

"Were you happy?" Arthur asked.

Tino shook his head. "No," he whimpered, sinking down into his seat. "I should've listened to you,"

"Now you know," Lovino spat bitterly. "Now you know! That's what it was to be alive, moving about in a cloud of ignorance. Never looking, never seeing, never even really living. Bastards, all of them!"

"Lovi…" Antonio said, gently taking his hand. "That's not the whole truth and you know it,"

"Look," Feliciano said, staring at the sky. "Ve~ it's clearing up,"

"Hm," Arthur hummed. "Yes, there are the stars again,"

"Look, Tino, up at that star," Mrs. Oxenstierna took Tino's hand and pointed up at the night sky. "I can't remember its name,"

"My boy, Alfred, is a pilot," Mrs. Jones chimed in. "He knows all the stars by name,"

"I remember that," Arthur smiled. "He loved the stars,"

" _Sí_ , a star makes for pretty good company, if you ask me" Antonio said lightly.

Lovino scowled. "Look. Someone's coming. It's one of _them_ ,"

Feliciano tilted his head. "Ve~ it's awfully late for one of them to be here," he said, sounding curious.

"Mother Oxenstierna," Tino whispered. "It's Berwald,"

"Sh, dear, just rest yourself,"

"…It's Berwald…"

The Swede trudged up the lonely path and made his way towards Tino's grave. He stared down at the headstone, his face blank and unreadable.

"Y'know, my boy Alfred, who knew the stars, he used to say it took millions and millions of years for that little speck of light to get to earth," Mrs. Jones said. "It doesn't seem like anybody could believe it, but that's what he used to say—millions of years,"

Berwald sunk to his knees and feel full length at Tino's feet.

"That's no way to behave!" Lovino snarled.

" _Sí_ , he ought to be home," Antonio said.

"He _ought_ to be asleep," Arthur added.

"Mother Oxenstierna?" Tino asked.

"Yes, dear?"

"They don't understand, do they?"

"No dear, they don't understand,"

 _Our Town_

The clouds were clearing up. The stars overhead were doing their old, old criss-cross journeys across the skies. Almost everybody in Seagull's Bridge was asleep. There were some lights still on: down at the Depot, the Albany Train had just left for New York; and in the livery stable a couple of people were staying up late, talking. Somewhere down in town, a church bell rang out. It was eleven o'clock in Seagull's Bridge. All was quiet.


End file.
